Technical Issues Found. Begin Removal.

◆ Yukiteru

“Yukki!”

I turn around. Enomoto comes running from behind, bag in hand, grinning from ear to ear, and instantly I know that he’s got his hands on gossip. “What is it?” I ask, regardless.

“You don’t know what I saw today!” He exclaims, giddily. “Nagahara-kun from 1-C confessed to Aishi-san during break!”

My body and mind comes screeching to a halt. “What?”

“He got shot down, though… She said she’s got her eyes on someone else.” I barely register that part as suddenly my brain starts working again.

Who does this guy think he is, to attempt to make a move on her? Aishi is mine. Not his. She smiled at me first. Her eyes turned pink for me, not him.

“…ki? Yukki?” There is Enomoto, trying to break my train of thought. “What is going on with you? You look like you could commit first-degree murder.”

You know what, I actually could.

“I’m OK,” I tell him, managing a smile. “What were you saying again? About some first-year confessing to Aishi-san?”

“I already told you. Nagahara-kun, Kei Nagahara-kun from class 1-C, confessed his feelings to Aishi-san during break, and got rejected. Apparently, he liked her since middle school, but couldn’t find the courage to tell her… until today at least. Well, at least he tried, right?”

I smile to myself. Enomoto eyes me questionably, but I don’t care.

Error. Technical issues found. Error code: 1642625108268. Someone confessed to Aishi.

It doesn’t matter if he got rejected.

Subject in error: Kei Nagahara. Error scheduled for removal in: as soon as possible.

I glance at my watch. It shows 16:00, so there are five minutes left until the time everyone has to be out of the school.

I should find Nagahara before then.

“Enomoto, you can go on home. I have student council matters to take care of.” The lie comes up as easily as my mind processes the whole outcome. “I’ll catch up to you when I finish.”

He throws me a questioning glance, then laughs, slightly ironic. “You got it, Yukki. Hopefully the bus will wait for you too.”

“It won’t take long, don’t worry.” I smile at him reassuringly. “I’ll catch up to you.”

He grins, and this time, it’s honest. “Ok then. Bye!”

I wave at him until he disappears down the hall.

Now then.

I stare down the hallway.

Kei Nagahara, where are you?

After some time of checking the school files and scouring with my eyes the mass of students leaving the school, I finally find the student named Kei Nagahara. He’s alone, with no friends next to him, his posture slouched like someone beat him. I catch up to him after checking no one can see us and say:

“Hey, Nagahara.”

He turns around. “Haibara-senpai?” There’s lingering pain in his voice—most likely from being rejected. “What is it?”

“Can we talk for a moment? There’s something I’d like to ask you.”

“Oh, sure.” He seems to brighten slightly. “Where to?”

Observation: Subject Nagahara displays a critical lack of situational awareness. First attempting to claim my asset, then blindly accepting a private conversation.

“The shed on the back of the school.” I glance around to check nobody’s seeing or listening, which they aren’t. “Hurry, before somebody notices.”

He follows me to the shed, and I shut the door behind us, securing it shut with a few ropes used for P.E. and keeping one. All of it, wearing rubber gloves I stole from the chemistry lab, to avoid leaving prints.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Nagahara asks me. I take a deep breath. Now’s the time. The moment of truth.

“I heard you confessed to Aishi-san from class 1-A. Is that true?”

His face sags. “Yes. Aishi-san… I liked her since middle school. She was always there, smiling, when I was at my darkest moments. She was everyone’s sun, the class representative, the light in the darkness. And I… I loved her. But she doesn’t love me. She says she’s got eyes on someone else. I don’t think she mentioned names, though.” He smiles sadly. “Must be some great guy, much better than a loser like me.”

I smile internally.

He’s accepted it. His fate. That he doesn’t deserve her. That she belongs to me.

“Nagahara-kun, would you be happy if someone put an end to your suffering?” I ask.

“Yes… I would.” He smiles. “If someone loved me, someday… put an end to my suffering… I would be truly happy.”

“Well, I know of someone who will love you.” He’s got his back turned to me. I approach him silently, rope in my hands. “She only wears black, and is always lonely, ever in search of a partner. Her face is a skeleton, so no one wants her.”

“What’s her name?” He asks.

I stretch the rope in my hands and kick the chloroform recipient. “Shinigami.”

He realizes what’s happening a second too late. By then, the chloroform has knocked him out. The rope is coarse in my rubber-gloved hands. The knot is a simple running noose—efficient. I loop it over Subject Nagahara's head; it rests above his Adam's apple. The metal bar on the ceiling is cold and solid, a reliable anchor point. A simple application of force to the bench beneath his feet is all that's required to complete the error correction. The bench clatters on the concrete floor. The process is complete.

As I head out, I look back, and smile.

Technical issues corrected. Error code: 1642625108268: fixed.

The ropes, I put them inside my bag, since I will burn them at home along with the gloves. The shed door, I leave it open a crack.

They will take a while to find the body.

And no camera has seen me, so I’m on the clear. Enomoto will testify that I was in the student council room, if I’m ever to be suspected.

But I won’t. I framed it as suicide. There will be motive, since he just got rejected by his longtime crush.

Goodbye, Kei Nagahara.

This is what happens when you try to take Tsukasa Aishi from me.

With this in mind, I board the bus, with my heart lightened.

***

“I’m home,” I call as I enter the house. It’s quiet. No one’s voice greets me.

I set down my shoes on the rack and enter the living room. With the corner of my eye, I see Mother, pounding at a keyboard, coding a fantasy RPG. She’s so concentrated she doesn’t notice me. Not with her headphones anyway.

I see a note on the table, with Father’s handwriting, saying he’s going to be late from work. As usual, since Grandfather’s death. Just like Mother, who’s overworking herself with the new project. Xenosword 4, she said it was named.

Not like I care much. They don’t ask about school, I don’t ask about work. We have this deal.

As I drop down on the couch, absent-mindedly, my thoughts wander to Aishi.

Aishi…

Her kind smile, omni-chromatic eyes, cute blush, and her vocalization of “Senpai!” is a recurring, predictable stimulus. It triggers a specific physiological response—a warmth in the chest, an acceleration of heart rate—that I have come to find… efficient. It is a desirable data point. This persistent physiological agitation, this intense focus on a single subject to the exclusion of others, aligns with all documented definitions of romantic love. The hypothesis is confirmed. Therefore, the logical conclusion is that I love Tsukasa Aishi. That is why I must guard her, protect her from whoever may taint her innocence.

So, if someone, ever, makes the same mistake as Kei Nagahara, I will do the same as I did to Kei Nagahara.

Simple logic, like two people who both robbed a bank receiving the same prison sentence.

My phone buzzes. It’s Enomoto.

Home already? ;)

Calmly, I type:

Yes. Why?

Another buzz.

I was thinking we go to the beach with some of our kouhais. Who do you think we should take?

Yes. The perfect chance awaits here. I can’t help but smile giddily at my phone.

What about Aishi-san and her two friends? If I recall correctly, their names were Nishimura and Takemoto.

Enomoto sends a question.

Who are them again?

I reply, without missing a beat:

Nishimura is the gothic lolita who’s always carrying a Junji Ito manga around. Takemoto is the blonde you were drooling over one of this days. Her first name is Tae.

A ping.

Really?! In that case, when are we going?

A moment’s consideration, before I hit the send button.

First week of summer break. Lasting… the weekend should be good. What do you think, Enomoto?

His reply comes shortly:

I say aye! Let’s do this, Yukki!

As I stare at the screen, I can already predict how my face looks like before I even see my reflection. A soft, yet calculating, grin.

“Wait for me, Aishi… I’m coming.”